


Put together

by TheRealRedRaven



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Bad Humor, Bang Chan is Whipped, Bang Chan is a Sweetheart, Bickering, Cute, Cute Ending, Cutesy, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Fluff without Plot, Humor, Moving In Together, One Shot, Short & Sweet, Slice of Life, Some Humor, Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-09
Updated: 2019-06-09
Packaged: 2020-04-23 07:33:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19146424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRealRedRaven/pseuds/TheRealRedRaven
Summary: Moving in together is a pretty big milestone which goes accompanied by a fun shopping trip to IKEA, wandering through the showrooms to gain inspiration for the shared home.Putting things together, however, proves to be very difficult for a kangaroo and a koala.





	Put together

Everything has a bright and dark side for all in the world contains positivity and its counterpart. Such is the way of existence, although the shadow side might not be realized until later when trying to put together the furniture bought for the brand new shared studio in a redeveloped part of the town, the community trying to save face by improving neglected neighbourhoods just enough in the hopes of attracting young people to thus let it flourish at their hands. A successful endeavour, since many couples in the prime of their lives have taken up residence in the harbour district with refurbished warehouses decorated with approved graffiti, some works even by the hand of the Australian boyfriend of a mere though steady nine months.

The trip to IKEA was a lot of fun, singing along to songs playing on the voluminous radio on the top of lungs while waiting in a terrible rush hour because more minds had the idea of visiting the massive home depot on a dreary day. It was the sole way to keep the simmering irritation thanks to standing endlessly frozen among honking cars to a bare minimum, fingers entwined while getting lost in the melodies. 

The briefly picked up on looks of adoration as interior showrooms were scoured for inspiration were heart-melting, Chris noting down all the chosen pieces of furniture on the small slip of paper with the cheap company pencil regardless of the fact the decisions were basically made without leaving many choices to the blonde boy. When remarking upon the continuous silent agreement, only occasionally providing some input on colour choice, the youth commented that building a home together is all that really mattered to him. Moreover, there was confidence in knowing better how to embody both personalities in the interior than he himself would have been able to do. Henceforth, howbeit with this somewhat uncomfortably in mind, the would-be massive shopping trip cracked on.

Alongside pure affection, there was also a dominant sense of pride in deep earthly eyes that seeped through in attitude, proud to have made it to this milestone, this achievement that was solely a dream for both on lonely days wherein the concept of love was practically unknown aside from family bonds and friendships formed at school. A satisfied innocent smile could not be erased from roseate lips throughout the entire venture, broadening to a wide bubbly smile when testing couches by launching ourselves onto them or spinning around in desk chairs together, seated on the personified koala’s lap and holding on for dear life to the characteristic raven black leather jacket, in search of the perfect one for the planned small home office.

Withal, every sort of happiness comes at a cost, this being that the ecstatic joy has malformed into frustrating confusion now that cardboard boxes retrieved from the immense storehouse litter the bare oaken floor of the empty echoing studio and the time has come to put the furniture together with, at times questionable, manuals. Missing screws or seemingly misplaced pre-created holes form only two of the multitude of sources for agitation, Chris’s brightness gradually becoming darker as the time passes and solely the round coarse night-toned metal coffee table, a few wall shelves, the stone grey couch - this one in particular with a lot of cursing and fuming in resilience after almost ripping the papers with step-by-step instructions - and a single bookshelf awaiting its three neighbours have been established in three hours time.

The cap that was bought on the first trip abroad as a couple, Scotland as its destination, is thrown to the side with a low resigning sigh after reading the supposedly easy to understand guide to the second one of the collection of bookshelves, a bright alabaster cabinet with glass doors. ‘It doesn’t make sense. How is it possible that one door fits perfectly and the other doesn’t?’

‘Did you put the clasps parallel to the others?’  ‘Yes, I did. Look,’ by means of illustration, the inside of the display is shown, pointing at the metal hinges in the designated places which are, indeed, parallel to those opposite, ‘I placed them where you said.’

The position of those already in the correct place was discovered after giving the advice of perhaps reading the text on the paper the correct way instead of upside down and yet vocal directions still had to be given to reach the current part of the building process. Not to say Chris is not the most skilled person when it comes to IKEA furniture or any furniture for that matter, but the flashback of the battle with the first bookcase makes it so that a slight scepticism has come to colour attitude in the predicament caused by this, apparently, problematic one.

‘Let me give it a spin, maybe I’ll be able to insert it. You might break the glass if you try to ram it in like this.’ The former four attempts at placing the door where it should go according to the guide went dramatically wrong, every carefully made endeavour to take on the task instead cut off by assuring snarky remarks. Any gently given direction of slightly altering the angle of insertion was dismissed with a coldly sharp comment about perfectly being able to handle it, so that, too, did not help in regards to any sort of progress.

Howbeit very reluctant, a chance is given with pouted lips and mocha eyes glaring at the last piece of the puzzle. ‘Good luck. I swear, if you manage to- oh.’

As predicted, all that was needed to do was manipulating the insert angle of the door a tad, the discovery leading to an indignant huff accompanied by a check-up whether the seemingly impossible mission has truly been accomplished. Which it obviously is, judging by the golden locks hanging in self-deprecating shame and sarcastic inwardly directed speech. ‘Are you serious?’

A pat on the shoulder makes the street artist raise his head at a broad smug smile on a beloved face, finding satisfaction in being better in doing something which is generally associated with men. ‘I told you how to do it, didn’t I? If only you’d listened.’

‘Oh, come on, Y/N. I still managed to put the couch together on my own because you weren’t a lot of help with that.’ An accusing index finger points to the ashen fabric sofa set against the far east wall, above which has yet to be hung the collection of empty sleek lacquered black frames for displaying Chris’s drawings specially made for decorating the house. 

‘I was looking for the missing screws!’ Palms rise into the air in dramatic defence, gaze unbelieving of the argument. ‘How was I supposed to know the rest was just a matter of inserting one part into the other?’

‘Sure, koala.’ The devious smile faded from one visage is replicated on the other, evidently not backing out of the witty battle until a triumph is had, hands firmly placed on the hips, thus pressing the fabric of the loose shadow-toned shirt covered in wood snippets and dust tightly over a well-trained chest. ‘But who also put together the coffee table?’

A denying shake of the head as raised digits lower again to be tucked into the pockets of the skinny jeans also affected by decorating the shared home, followed by an incredulous laugh at the attempted clever response proving superiority. ‘That was simply a matter of getting it out of the box, kangaroo boy.’

‘Oi, it also required some putting together.’ Pure uncensored defied belief seeps through in the voice of the street artist, unhappy with being unmasked by such an easy task that does not count in the overall grander picture.  

‘You only had to place the tabletop on its foundation, so that doesn’t count. Furthermore, who installed the shelves on the wall because someone could not handle the drill properly and almost drilled through the places for the attachments?’

Stark white teeth distractingly bite down on the bottom lip, Chris turning away to hide the shame of the almost accident whereby a woman’s touch formed the apparent saviour of a ruined interior before daringly locking gazes. ‘If the coffee table does not count as furnishing than that doesn’t as well. And it’s not my fault the wood is so thin, it’s easy to completely run it through if there’s barely any depth or thickness to it.’

‘No, it isn’t. You’re just clumsy, but you don’t want to admit it.’ 

An eyebrow is arrogantly cocked at the defiant street artist, who copies the attitude with the intention to counterattack with a sarcastic comment that shall continue the bickering until a clear victor appears. ‘Me? Clumsy? Who almost dropped the boxes with candle holders for the bedroom yesterday?’

Well, for what has to function as a bedroom since it is nothing more than a simple oaken bed frame with drawers and two matching night tables made of the same material, located in the space next to the little balcony looking out over the old harbour. Again, it was established with the necessary cursing and risk of a shredded manual, the help continuously searching the massive cardboard box for the needed parts sometimes wrapped in bubble wrap while trying to keep the kangaroo boy’s temper under control. As it would seem, the platinum blonde boyfriend is better at popping bubbles than reading and following the instructions given by IKEA. 

‘That wasn’t because I’m clumsy, but because you scared the living daylights out of me by suddenly appearing and trying to wrestle me to the ground.’ As a means of giving extra strength to the point, a stern finger points from an offended face to the scene of the past accident, speaking with a higher tone now that sensitive nerves truly are on edge with triggering memories.

Yesterday, it had seemed like a genius prank to jump out of the bathroom while bringing in the newly acquired fragile candle holders that had the Aussie frantically search the massive lower floor of the home depot only to find the mysteriously disappeared girl again in the candle section, judging which holder would go with what candle and colour while also keeping the outlay of the planned interior in mind. Thus, the notion of caution while bringing in the unloaded boxes with frames and accessories that had temporarily formed a fort in the cool hallway of the apartment building was entirely nullified, even though the culprit put a special emphasis on this beforehand when it was him carrying the vases for the bouquets of fake flowers. A scattering of violet reflecting glass almost formed the consequence of the affectionately meant yet aggravating instead gesture, the youth barely able to save face by rapidly steadying a toppling stance and breakable decoration.

Household chores are up to the artist for the coming month as a punishment. 

‘Alright, fair point. But still, you especially wanted the crystal ones while you know I can attack at any time.’ A foreboding playful stance is taken up, the bickering entirely forgotten as crossed arms unravel to spread wide while the back arches in the anticipation of pouncing on the targeted prey in front with a mischievous grin.

The step backwards does nothing to escape the fate already set in motion, the wiggle of dark eyebrows promising there is no escape from the love about to be shown. Regardless of the urge to attempt to find a way out, it is difficult to suppress the amusement as the predatory stance changes to resemble a kangaroo which results in a chuckled warning. ‘Chris, don’t.’

‘I’m gonna catch you~.’ A provocative hop forward with an adorable high-pitched giggle, bleached locks obscuring the sparkling mocha stare. 

‘No, you won’t.’ Another step backwards on the bare oaken floor, answering the threat with a voice truly bordering on pure innocent laughter. ‘Catch me if you can.’

What ensues is a weirdly human kangaroo madly chasing his offender who has fully joined in the grinning, cutely though relentlessly continuing the chase after her until she is driven into the kitchen corner and picked up with ease by strong veiny arms in a twirling fashion.

When feet touch the ground again, they linger a few centimeters from the ones which pursued them a mere second ago, cheek contently resting on the onyx fabric displaying the effect of furnishing, listening to the steady heartbeat of the cheekily smiling beloved. ‘You’re an idiot, Chris Bang.’

‘Could say the same for you, koala.’ A kiss on the crown of the head results in a glance upward into warm adoring chocolate irises, which, in turn, leads to another gentle meeting but this time between mouths with a tenderness that erases some of the devilish attitude in both individuals. The embrace tightens, ensuring the instincts always triggered in each other’s presence there is nothing but a safe haven, a home for two people to grow in.

Though wanting to remain in the moment for as long as possible, much remains to be done and has to be for the day might still be young yet demands action, knowing the cardboard mess is unbearable to live in. Moreover, the break from daily obligations has a deadline that would rather not be extended due to a delay in settling into the new studio together. Henceforth, breathless lips laboriously pull away as a big palm comes to cup the cheek while a desperate urgency begs for a deeper connection. ‘Let’s take a break and then crack on with the other bookshelves and the dining room. Would be nice to not eat dinner on the floor for once.’

For a second, Chris is clearly at a loss for words and composure, still leaning forward with puzzlement plastered across the lost expression. Nonetheless, it is soon replaced with an amiable relief at getting a repose from putting together incomprehensible installations, consenting to the plan with a pleased hum. 

The happiness of the pause with peach ice teas and fruit salad does not linger long because next up are the other bookshelves so that the living room is at least somewhat done, needing only a few fake though lush green plants, Chan’s framed works on the bare walls and a few other homely accessories alongside filled shelves to finish it off officially. 

It only takes five minutes for a ripped manual. 


End file.
